Chapter Four #2
“Instead of naming my ransom, I would make an additional request that will take the place of any monetary compensation. If you will not solicit your sister on my behalf, might I know the reasons behind your decision? Is there something I have done to offend you and am unaware of the occurrence?”
The heralds were moving toward the two men to ascertain why they were still lingering on the field. If there was a dispute, the heralds would be required to settle it. Stephan eyed the men in the red and white tunics, attempting to formulate a quick reply before there were more ears upon them.
“You have never offended me at any time, my lord, and I consider it a great honor that you have expressed interest in my sister,” he said rapidly, quietly. “But I must again refuse to divulge the reasonings behind my decision, as they are of a private nature.”
Bose’s raven’s wing eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “I do not understand, Stephan. Is she already pledged?”
The heralds were nearly upon them. Stephan turned to Bose during the last brief moment of privacy, his green eyes piercing. “She shall never be pledged. I would kindly ask that you dismiss her from your thoughts and seek your attentions with another. Leave my sister alone.”
With that, he turned on his heel and marched from the arena.
The crowd cheered weakly for the loser of the melee as Bose remained on the field, waving off the urgent queries of the heralds and entirely consumed with the gist of Stephan’s reply.
As a noble knight, he should have respected the man’s wishes and simply ridden from the field without another thought to the lady.
But as Stephan’s words settled deep, he found he was more confused than ever.
His black eyes sought the lodges again, pensively; the lady was still smiling at him.
God help him, he should have turned that moment to retreat from the arena.
But the more he stared at her distant, lovely face, the more he realized that he was unwilling to accept Stephan’s answer.
She shall never be pledged. Just what in the hell did that mean?
Bose was a very private fighter, well removed from the adoration of the crowd and the praise of his admirers.
He never participated in the parade of knights that usually commenced before the tournaments, instead, leaving the pomp and circumstance to those more willing to accept public accolades.
Given his pattern, it was unusual for him to turn his charger in the direction of the lodges.
His own men saw him advance toward the lodges, wondering if he had suddenly gone mad from a blow to the head and had forgotten which direction to take back to their tent.
Other knights saw him as well, finding it extremely odd that Bose de Moray should bother himself with a female admirer.
For as long as any of them had known the man, he showed little concern for anyone other than himself or his men.
Summer could hardly believe that Bose was moving toward the lodges, his visor raised and his black eyes focused upon her.
As he drew near, she found herself studying features that had eluded her until this moment; they were not as horrible as her brother had described them to be.
She could see his eyes, as sharp and as black as a moonless night, emerging from beneath ruggedly arched brows.
His partially obscured face was lined with sweat, his nose straight and true, his lips full and masculine.
He moved closer and she was able to complete her assessment of his physical features; nay, he was clearly not as unattractive as Stephan had described him. He was terribly masculine in appearance, brutally handsome in a harsh sort of way. She rather liked looking at him.
She was so involved with her observations that she was startled when he drew alongside the raised platform, the snorts of his charger jolting her from her train of thought.
Black eyes fixed upon those of dark gold and, for a moment, neither one dared to break the spell.
After a moment, Summer offered a timid smile. He smiled back.
“Did you enjoy your first melee, my lady?” he asked politely. “As I have understood, it was your first.”
Summer rose to her feet, her smile broadening. Before she could speak, however, Edward and Genisa thrust themselves forward, intercepting Summer’s reply.
“She was terrified at first, my lord, but she calmed when you and Stephan battled for victory,” Genisa’s shrill, squeaking tone was irritating. “Congratulations on your win, although my husband undoubtedly feels otherwise.”
Bose looked to the woman, pretty and flashy with big teeth and a sensual smile. But, already, her high-pitched voice annoyed the hell out of him.
“In fact, he has already congratulated me on a fine match, Lady du Bonne,” he said respectfully. “But his younger brother, I am sure, feels otherwise. I sent Ian to the ground within the first minute or so.”
“A magnificent defeat, my lord,” Edward agreed. “We’ve not yet met, but I am Edward du Bonne. I have heard a great deal about you, as my sons’ most formidable nemesis.”
Bose bowed his head slightly in thanks, his onyx eyes fairly glittering at Summer.
“Where it is my pleasure to vex your sons, most assuredly, my intentions toward your daughter are precisely the opposite,” when Summer blushed profusely, he could not help but smile.
“Might I have a word in private with her, my lord?”
Edward’s smile faded and Bose caught the nervous glance he cast to his daughter.
“I… that is to say, my daughter is a proper maiden, my lord. I am uncomfortable with your term ‘private’. Mayhap it would be best if you said your farewell at this time; undoubtedly, you are tired and wish to rest after your thrilling victory.”
Sensing that Bose was focused on the baron, the crowd began to filter from the lodges to take in a bit of the merriment intended to accompany such an event.
Jugglers, men who breathed fire, and other entertainers perused the grounds, vying for attention and coinage.
Since the melee was over for the day and the joust would not commence until the morrow, there were a hundred other diversions to occupy the guests until the evening feast.
But Bose ignored the throng as they vacated the stands, still focused on the baron and his evasive answer. Feeling his annoyance mount, since he had yet to be given a valid reason as to why he must steer clear of the lady’s company, he fixed the short, fat man with a heady stare.
“When I used the word ‘private’, I simply meant to infer having a confidential conversation with my lady, not to whisk her into a darkened tent and have my way with her,” as Genisa gasped with the shock of his bold words, Bose drew in a deep breath and attempted to calm his irritation.
“I assure you, my lord, I have no intention of vexing or molesting your daughter. A brief word is all I ask. You may stand where you are and observe the entire happenstance. In fact, I would encourage you to do so for your own peace of mind.”
Edward’s gaze was unusually hard and unusually soft at the same time. He knew little of Bose de Moray other than what his sons had seen notable to mention, nearly all of their tales revolving around the man’s uncanny strength and knightly ability. Still, he was unsure and reluctant.
“As well I appreciate your noble offer, I find I must decline yet again,” he said quietly. “We thank you for your query, sir knight, but my daughter is not interested.”
“Did you ask her?”
“N-Nay, he….”
Summer’s budding reply was abruptly cut short by Genisa’s grating voice, overshadowing her sister-in-law’s attempt at speech.
“I am afraid this day has been most taxing on Summer and myself,” she said quickly, grasping her sister-in-law firmly by the arm and practically dragging her toward the exit. “If you will excuse us, sir knight. My lord baron.”
Bose watched, his black eyes glittering, as Genisa literally yanked Summer down the small flight of stairs leading from the lodges.
Onyx-black orbs locked with those of dark gold and he could literally read the pain and sorrow within her shimmering eyes.
Her expression, so recently lined with warmth and excitement at the sight of him, was drawn and taut and, he thought, bordering on tears.
He watched her retreat until she disappeared from sight. When Summer had faded from view amongst the vendors and crowd, he returned his attention to the rotund baron. From soft black one moment to blazing embers the next, his gaze was anything but tolerant upon his host.
“My lord,” he began, his baritone voice as steady as he could manage for the fury and confusion building in his heart.
“I realize you do not know me; therefore, I do not fault your protectiveness where your daughter is concerned. But I am a noble knight with an established reputation, and believe me when I tell you that my intentions toward your daughter are entirely chivalrous.”
Edward, normally weak-willed and fairly pliable to the desires of others, met his gaze with wavering courage.
“You must understand, my lord, that I find no fault with you at all. In fact, your interest pleases me greatly. But Summer is… courting her is out of the question. I sincerely wish I could elaborate, but I cannot. ’Tis a private matter I prefer not to discuss with a stranger.
Please obey my wishes and end your pursuit. ”
Bose emitted a harsh sigh, leaning forward on his saddle in a gesture of exhaustion and disbelief. “God’s Beard, I did not say anything about courting her. I merely wanted to speak with her.”
“But why?”
He looked at the man a moment before averting his gaze, staring off toward the rapidly approaching sunset. After a moment of deliberation, he waved his hand in a careless gesture. “I am without a lady to champion for this tournament. I merely wished to ask her for a favor.”